


Margo & Kady

by Monstrous_Femme



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: F/F, this fic is a gift to my loving magicians femslash community
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-01-22 21:51:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18536161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monstrous_Femme/pseuds/Monstrous_Femme
Summary: How to succeed in bank robbery, unplanned murder, and an accidental cross-country crime spree without really trying.Or, the Battleking Thelma and Louise AU no one asked for.





	1. Chapter 1

The new girl in the safe house looked like a real bitch.

Everything from the perfect layers of her hair to the three-inch heels with zippers up the back reeked of another rich girl slumming for a weekend before going back to her penthouse apartment or wherever the fuck it was these people lived. They never stayed.

For the first full day, Kady didn’t even bother to learn her name. It wasn’t until the girl slid into the bunk beneath hers, lifting the sheets with only the tips of her fingers as though she might get bit, that it crossed her mind that they might have to interact.

She slept restlessly.

It was still dark when she woke up for breakfast, and the girl was fast asleep. Kady crawled down the ladder, then down the rail-less stairs.

The crack in the third step was getting larger. She avoided it all together.

The kitchen, if it could be called that, was already occupied. Vanessa had been in the safe house even longer than Kady, and she was always the first up in the morning. She waved. Kady nodded back.

The single light bulb flickered. Somebody would have to replace it soon. Kady cast a light enhancing spell, then looked at her food options. The china cupboard with the broken panes of glass was almost empty. All it held were three boxes of Ritz crackers and a dead mouse.

“You’re up early,” Vanessa said.

“I’m always up early.”

“Yeah, but not at fuck-o-clock. You know it’s not even six yet, right?”

Kady glanced out the gap in the boarded up window. “I can’t tell the difference this time of year.” She took a bowl from the sink, washed it, and took the Cheerio box from Vanessa.

“We’ve got milk right now. Jane cast a refrigeration charm that should last a whole week.”

“I hate wet cereal.”

“Oh right, you’re a weirdo.”

The Cheerios were stale, but Kady took a bite anyway. “So, how long do you think the new girl will last?” she asked.

“You mean Margo?”

“You know her?”

Vanessa nodded. “She stayed here a few years back, just for a couple of weekends. She was working on some sort of bank heist. Once she had her spells, she disappeared.”

“Then what the hell is she doing back?”

“Fuck if I know.”

Kady leaned back against a wooden crate that served as a counter. “She’s in the bunk under mine.”

“Lucky you.”

“Yeah.” Kady let her spoon drop into the bowl, the scrap of metal against plastic discordant and painful. “Lucky me.”

Despite the rooming situation, it was a full week before Kady and Margo spoke. They went to bed at drastically different times. Sometimes late at night as she was drifting off, Kady could hear Margo laughing in the common area. It was just the main room of the warehouse, separated from the kitchen by thin scarves. Even so, Margo lorded over it. Glass of wine in hand, lounging against the probably-infested-with-something couch, acting like she owned the place.

At least, that’s how Kady pictured it.

She avoided spending time there.

In the mornings, Margo slept in almost until noon. Kady preferred to get up while it was still dark. Some days, she left the safehouse with Vanessa to run an errand or follow up on a lead. Once the made it to the library.

Mostly, Kady stayed inside, meditated, and ate stale fucking Cheerios.

She sometimes dreamed of hot days on the beach, stretched out under the sun with no worries, no constant looking over her shoulder. No glamour to keep her safe outside.

She’d only been to the beach once in her life, when she was six. Her mom had had a rare day off, and took her to some dinky playground by the water. It hadn’t been what she pictured. She’d been attacked by a seagull, and come home with sand in every crevice. But even that sounded better than being trapped inside all day.

So yeah, sometimes she resented Margo’s frequent sojourns to the spa or the mall or wherever the fuck it was she went during the afternoons, especially when she came back basically glowing. And yeah, it sucked that Margo was making friends here so much better than Kady had, even though she’d only been there a week. But that was just how girls like her were.

None of that was what set Kady off.

It was walking into the kitchen for a slice of toast in the afternoon, only to see Margo executing a flawless slicing charm on her plate of sausages.

Fucking show-off.

“You like that?” Margo asked. A smile danced across her face, as though she were laughing internally. “I could teach you if you want.”

“Is that why you’re here?” Kady snapped, yanking open the china cabinet. “Doing your community service requirement teaching magic to us low-lives before going back to your country club?”

“Actually, I heard this was the best safehouse for pedicures. My feet have _very_ specific moisturizing needs.”

Kady’s chest tensed. “Jesus, this is all a fucking joke to you, isn’t it? You know, some of us are here because we need it, right?”

“Look, if you’re trying to out-bitch me, that’s not gonna go well before. I’ve been a part of these obnoxious one-upping conversations since I was in utero, and I mean that literally. My mother and her friends would get together and compare bellies. Anyway, my point is it’s boring, and you’re not going to win.”

“Whatever.” Kady slammed the cupboard shut and walked away. It wasn’t until she reached her bunk that she realized she’d forgotten her fucking toast.

After that conversation, they stayed out of each other’s way. Kady really thought it’d be possible to live and let live or some bullshit. They’d get by. They just had to never speak again.

A week later, Kady woke up to a neatly folded sheet of paper lying next to her pillow. She opened it.

_Hey, Kady,_

_Not to pry or anything, but shouldn’t you be at Brakebills right about now? When I didn’t hear from you, I was worried._

_Hope your mom is doing well. Have you heard from her recently? It’d be such a shame if something happened to her._

_ <3 <3 <3 _

It took Kady six hours to decide what to do.

Because the answer wasn’t Brakebills. It couldn’t be Brakebills, and enslavement to Marina, and watching her mom make stupid choice after stupid choice and racking up more debt.

But the answer also wasn’t letting her mom die.

So that left door #3.

She sat on the lower bunk, running through the details through her head as she waited.

And waited.

It was almost two in the morning when the curtain slid open and Margo fell through it and onto her bed. She landed on Kady’s crossed legs. “Fuck!”

“It’s just me.”

Margo lowered her hands, which had already flown into Popper Seventeen. “Oh,” she said with disdain. “Look, I’m all for trading bunks, but warn a girl first, all right?”

“I need to talk to you.”

Margo yawned. “Listen, I know I’m the go-to girl in the safehouse for gossip, but you’re going to have to wait until morning. I need at least eight hours of beauty rest, and I’m not going to lose it over someone who thinks I’m just some rich party girl.”

“Just hear me out, okay?”

“Fine.”

Kady took a deep breath. “I need your help robbing a bank.”

Margo leaned forward, resting her hand on her chin. “I’m listening,” she said.. “Gotta say, I’m surprised. Didn’t think you had it in you.” She smiled. “So, who are we robbing?”

“Hedge bitch. She stole the necklace from my mom, all I’m doing is getting it back. It’s in a vault. Top security, probably. Can you do it?”

“What’s in it for me?”

“Anything you want from the vault.”

“And how do I know there’s anything in there good enough to make it worth the trip?”

“It is. Marina’s—she’s powerful. Anything in her vault is gonna be valuable magic.”

“Wait, you’re trying to rob _Marina Andrieski?_ ” Margo’s eyebrows flew upward. “No fucking way. I heard the last person who try to fuck with her was found three days later in the sewer. In separate pieces.”

Kady’s fingers twitched against her arm, but she hid them. If Margo knew how desperate she really was— “Her vault’s not secured by her. It wouldn’t be like robbing her safehouse. We just need to get past whatever security the bank has set up.”

“What do you need the necklace for so badly, anyway?”

“None of your business.”

“It is if you want my help. One piece of extremely precious magic, and the reason you’re risking your life to get back a _necklace_ from someone who could kill you without lifting a finger. I mean, Christ, I’m all about nice jewelry, but really?”

Kady swore under her breath. Her nails dug into the skin of her arm. _Fuck._ “Marina’s blackmailing me, okay? She’s threatening my mom if I don’t—it doesn’t matter. The point is, the necklace has a witness protection spell on it. I need to get it to my mom. So will you help me or not?”

Something almost imperceptible shifted in Margo’s demeanor. Softened, maybe. Her shoulders were held looser, and her eyes held—

Not pity.

It had better not be pity.

But in an instant, it had disappeared. “All right. So you’re saying we need to get into the bank, steal two precious and enchanted items, and get out again without being caught and hideously murdered.”

“Pretty much.”

A smile danced across Margo’s face. “Well, it’s not fun if it’s not a little dangerous, right?”

 

 

*

**An Idiot-Proof Guide to Robbing a Vault, by Margo Hanson**

 

1. _Using your own blood, mark your arms and face so your magical signature becomes unreadable._

 

Margo cast the glamour, and the blood smeared across her face seemed to disappear.

“Why’d we save so much if you only needed half?”

“Hey, if you want to get caught because you couldn’t refresh your sigils, be my guest.” Margo handed over the makeup brush. “It’s your turn. Get painting.

Kady unscrewed the cap to her own jar, wrinkling her nose. “I never knew how gross blood smelled until I saw this much of it up close.”

“Yeah, and I never knew how gross blood smelled until I started using a Diva Cup. Now get to work. The others will be back soon.

Kady closed her eyes and dipped the brush into the jar.

 

2.  _Carry one item given to you by the vault owner. Break it into pieces, one for each item you'll steal._

“You know, when Vanessa told me you’d robbed a bank before I assumed you were some kind of mastermind, but now I’m starting to think it’s not that hard. All we have to do is leave something of hers behind?”

Margo narrowed her eyes. “Aside from a spell to confuse the wards, which I spent six months developing.”

“Fine, you’re a genius, whatever,” Kady said, rolling her eyes. “So, how long will we have to get out?”

“Ten minutes before the wards catch on that the items in the vault aren’t right.”

“So I should wear my running shoes.”

“Ew, no,” Margo said, wrinkling her nose. “They’ll never think you’re a banker in those. Wear a pair of sensible flats.”

 

3.  _Get past the Muggle security with a forged ID._

 

The guard scrutinized their badges, then stared at Margo’s face. “I haven’t seen you here before.”

Shit. Kady’s heart started pounding. She started to move into Popper twenty-seven, but Margo stopped her with a tiny shake of the head.

Margo squared her shoulders and put her hands on her hips. “So I shouldn’t be allowed to do my _job_ because you’re too incompetent to recognize the CFO?”

“Woah there, all I’m saying is that I should call in my boss to confirm—”

“Confirm this,” Margo said. “If you don’t let me and my assistant through in the next thirty seconds, I’m going to have you so far up your ass in red tape that you’ll be shitting company by-laws. So what’s it gonna be, Paul Blart?”

He blanched, but buzzed them through, casting suspicious glances at them until the private access door shut behind them.

“And that’s how you break into a bank,” Margo said. Her high heels clacked against the stone floor. Kady all but ran to keep up.

 

4. _Cut your finger. Mark the wards with blood._

 

“Jesus,” Kady said when Margo pulled the dagger out from her purse. “How much blood does one spell take?”

“You really don’t know anything about sigils, do you?”

Kady narrowed her eyes. “Fine. Enlighten me.”

“Bank vaults are keyed to blood signatures. This one’s set up for Marina. Even with the sigils on our faces, we’d be unidentified users. But once we’ve tricked the wards into thinking our own blood is neutral, it won’t register that anyone’s there at all.”

“And you’re sure it’ll work?”

Margo sliced the back of her arm and led the drops fall against the wall. The wards flickered, making a visible web of gold around the vault. “Well, I sure didn’t bring this knife because it matched my outfit..”

She tossed the dagger. It gleamed silver in the air, and landed, handle down, in Kady’s outstretched hand.

 

5. _When the vault accepts you, enter. Trade the object you’ve brought for the one(s) you want._

 

The necklace was displayed on a cushion, splayed out like a fucking trophy. The silver plating had long since rubbed off, leaving the chain an ugly copper stain. The pendent had lost half its gems, not like they were worth anything to begin with.

Any remaining qualms Kady might have had about stealing from this bitch dissipated, dissolving into the ether. She took her half of Marina’s note and left it on the cushion.

The necklace was cold, and when she clasped it around her neck, she could taste the old metal in her throat. She didn’t have anything of her mother’s at the safe house.

She’d made a point to leave it all behind.

 

6. _Get the fuck out before you’re noticed._

 

Margo choose her item with careful efficiency, scanning for additional protections. They quickly renewed their blood sigils, and left the vault. No alarms sounded to mark their escape. The necklace didn’t tighten around Kady’s neck.

They had done it.

 

6b.  _Don’t run into him. Don’t you dare hesitate long enough to recognize his face. Don’t stop to wonder if he works here now. Just run. Just fucking run and don’t look back, especially long enough for the spell to come to your mind and fingertips without conscious thought, especially not enough to see his neck snap and the blood pour out from where his head hit the floor._

 

All Kady saw before it happened was a narrowing of Margo’s eyes, a tensing of her shoulders before she turned back and shot off the spell.

And then the body was falling, and Margo was grabbing her arm and running, dragging her out of the bank and into the outside light. And then they ran.

And then they ran.

Kady didn’t know if they would ever stop.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

 

Kady’s calves burned as they reached the street. A bright yellow Volkswagen Beetle was parked in front of the bank. It looked as though it been left there fifty years ago and forgotten about, and maybe it had been—would explain how they’d scored such a good parking spot—but, more importantly, it was identical in model to the car Kady had learned how to pick locks on. Her hands flew into Popper 23.

“We’re stealing a car?” Margo’s tone made an attempt at being biting, but was too out of breath. “What, so we can get stuck in midday traffic for six hours?”

“What’s your brilliant idea, take a fucking subway?” Kady’s hands dropped, and she swore. Now was not the time to lose concentration. “If you don’t want to do it, you can find your own way out of here.”

“Excuse me for being a little fucking overwhelmed right now. Can you at least hurry up?”

“I’m trying!” Kady snapped. She closed her eyes and focused—Popper 23, then 1, then 4, and the lock snapped open. “Get in!”

The doors screeched as their handles were pulled. Kady was shaking so hard she could barely hold her hands steady, but after three tries her ring finger twisted the right way and she was able to get the engine going. The car handled as though it had forgotten it was a car and only now remembered.

People honked as Kady pulled out into traffic. Margo was glued to the window, breathing shakily. It took five minutes to go two blocks.

“Okay, so it’s weird that nobody’s following us yet, right?” 

Kady did a head-check and made a right turn. “Let’s try not to question it until we’re away from the city, okay?”

It was the worst road trip ever. It seemed to take years to get out of the city, there weren’t any snacks, and they only spoke to each other when it was absolutely necessary. Kady kept swallowing against a painful throat. 

Hours later, they pulled over at the side of the road to switch drivers. They’d gotten far enough out of the city that the land felt still and quiet. Kady leaned against the car, taking a moment to breathe the fresh air.

All at once, a jab of pain erupted in her stomach. The feeling in her throat had grown into a monster of itself. She doubled over and vomited onto the dusty ground. 

“Here,” Margo said, handing her a bottle of water. Kady rinsed her mouth and spat.

Her throat felt tight and achy. She was seven-fucking-teen years old again, listening to her mom tell her about Marina. All of the excuses she’d made. All of the questions she’d never been able to answer. And then, everything that had come after, leading right up to this moment.

The words tumbled out of her mouth. “Why did you do it?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Right. Of course not.” Kady snorted. “No need to let a girl know why you’ve just made her accessory to murder, right?”

“Look, things didn’t really go how I wanted either.”

“Well, that doesn’t fix anything!” Her words swam through the open air, resonating for a moment too long. Kady glanced nervously around the highway and lowered her voice to a hiss. “We were halfway out the fucking door, Margo! What was that?”

Margo’s eyes narrowed, and her words were crisp and precise. “I said I don’t want to talk about it.”

Kady sagged against the hood of the car. Her bones felt as though they’d been crushed in a machine and then put back together poorly. Every second they spent arguing was a second closer some powerful battle magician could be getting to finding them. “Let’s get back on the road.”

“And go where?”

Oh. That.

“Any suggestions.”

“Just one,” Margo said. “I know it’s far, but if we can make it to Tijuana I know a guy who can help us. My tio’s boyfriend is an expert on magical jewelry.”

“So?”

“So, do you think we’d have made it this far if you weren’t wearing your mom’s protection necklace?”

Oh.

The became heavy against Kady’s skin. In all the rush to get out of there, she’d forgotten she had it. She stroked it with a single finger, reveling in its roughness. Maybe they could be okay after all. “So you’re hoping your tio’s boyfriend can replicate it for you?”

Margo nodded. “I’m thinking a rose gold chain with a blown-glass pendant.”

She smiled, and something in Kady’s chest snapped. Her body was dissolving into sand, and Margo was just standing here, _smiling_ like everything was fine. She turned to face the road. “If you’re going to treat this like a game, I’m going back to the safehouse without you.” 

“You can take the car. Get a head start.”

“You’re seriously going to leave me in the middle of nowhere?”

Kady ignored her and continued walking. She’d hitchhiked from Connecticut to Manhattan before. It wouldn’t be too bad, if Margo would just leave already and stop staring at her.

“Oh, come on, the guy had it coming.”

Dust rose up from the ground, settling on her black slacks and sensible shoes. She’d have to cast some sort of glamor before she got a ride. Nobody was going to believe a hitchhiker dressed like a stock broker.

“What about your mom?” Margo called.

The words were like an icicle in Kady’s chest. She whirled around. “Are you seriously threatening my _mother_?”

Margo held up her hands. “I just thought the whole reason we went today was to save your mom from Marina. How are you going to give her the necklace if you need it to protect yourself?”

Fuck.

The smile on Margo’s face said she knew she’d won. Kady stalked back to the car and threw open the passenger side door. “Fine,” she said, settling into her seat. “But if this guys has a fee, you’re paying.”

The driver’s door opened smoothly. “Nando wouldn’t charge me,” Margo said. “He’s family.”

Margo spun her fingers. The car sputtered, then came to life. In a moment, they were flying across the horizon towards the sun. 

Kady lowered her visor to cut off the glare.

*

Despite Margo’s best efforts and her platinum Visa card, they spent the night in a roadside motel. The room was tiny, two queen beds squished together with only six inches of space between them. The shower ran cold, but a quick warming charm had that squared away. It was the smell that was keeping Kady awake. The surface was stale cigarette fumes, which she’d grown up with, but underneath was something else. It was dank and suffocating. Rot, maybe, or that slick black mold that grew on walls nobody could see.

When Kady was a kid, her mom had dragged her from motel room to safe house to motel room, always on the search for more magic. Their final one before the fuck-up that had made Marina step in with her blackmail and cleanup work, had been about like this one. Smaller, maybe three inches between the beds. More visible rats, although she was sure if she listened closely, she’d hear some in the walls here too. 

But she wasn’t going to think about her mom right now. 

Kady rolled over underneath the dense comforter. Streetlight glared in through the crack beneath the blinds and 

Margo had killed a man Margo had killed a man Margo had killed a man

she had to get to sleep soon so they could be on the road bright and early tomorrow, so they could get away.

It was 42 hours from New York to Tijuana, and they must have done at least eight of them today, so that left 34. If they managed 12-hour days, they could get there by Monday, barring traffic and detours.

And her mom still didn’t have the necklace.

Kady tried not to think about all of the things Marina might be doing to her, might already have done to her in the hours that had elapsed. Surely she’d keep her alive for a while, if only to have leverage. Probably she was just threatening her right now, and her mom was crying, and—

The layers shifted, and Kady realized that the sound of muffled sobs wasn’t in her head.

Margo, inches away from her on the other bed, was shaking so hard that Kady could see it even in the dark. Her sobs sounded like somebody trying to force poison from their body. 

An ache ran through Kady’s stomach. She laid very still, feeling as though she’d caught Margo using a ten-inch dildo. Only that would have been less embarrassing for either of them. Margo would have played it cool, and Kady would have felt awkward but acted as though she didn’t, and—

She cut herself off from this train of thought. The point was, Margo was crying her eyes out. Margo, the girl with the bougie-ass shoes and the perfect hip to waist ratio. The girl who had everything.

And here she was, sobbing on a lumpy mattress in a hotel room that looked out onto an alley.

*

They had planned to be on the road by 8:00, but neither was up until 10:30. By 10:45 Kady had washed her hair in and forced herself back into the pantsuit. Their next stop had better be a department store. She waited, laying across the bed with muscles so stiff she thought they might break off, as Margo sat at the mirror applying lipliner.

“This is taking forever.”

“I’m going as fast as I can.”

Kady snorted. “Right, because perfect hair and makeup is the key to a successful escape from a crime scene.”

“Relax, we’ve already escaped. All we’ve got to do is make it to Tijuana and we’re golden. I’m talking forever. Besides, we’re not at a crime scene right now.”

Ten minutes later, Margo was finally ready. They stopped for coffee and breakfast at the diner next door. Kady shoved food into her mouth quickly, itching to be back on the road. Margo took smaller, more refined bites, and when she was finished, went into the bathroom to refresh her makeup. 

Of fucking course.

Kady dragged her fork around her plate across the remains of roasted potatoes. The diner was completely empty. Even the staff seemed to have disappeared into the back room once the food had arrived. Maybe this place was a front for something. She amused herself for a few moments imagining what they could be doing back there, until a bored-looking waitress returned to replenish her coffee. She took the refill but refused one for Margo. After all, why should she need coffee if she was awake enough to do her makeup four times in an hour?

Margo’s phone buzzed with a text. Kady stared at her reflection in a spoon. Her hair was snarled where it usually curled. Add a hairbrush to the list of things she’d need when they stopped. Margo had agreed they could get different clothes, likely lured by the excuse to turn this into a shopping spree. 

The phone buzzed a second time, and then a third. Kady glanced at the screen, and saw that there were 8 unread messages from some guy named Eliot. She glanced at the bathroom door, then back down. The phone was password protected, but not from magic; a few quirks of the finger and Kady had it unlocked. She scrolled up and read the texts from today. 

**11:23am**  
Look, the whole ghosting thing is cute and all, but there’s something you should know. 

**11:27am**  
It’s about you-know-who.

**11:29am**  
I know we promised never to say his name again but you do get that I’m talking about Chaz right?

**11:35am**  
Fine, I’ll just tell you if you’re going to be a baby about it. Anyway, it’s good news. Someone killed him with battle magic at that stupid bank he works at. Remember, the internship-turned-job he kept bragging about like he was some sort of legacy student at Harvard and not a semi-competent Illusionist?

**11:41am**  
I heard Fogg and some other profs talking about it when I was borrowing test answers from his office. Anyway, yay, I guess?

**11:45am**  
I know this doesn’t make everything go away, and it’s fucked up what happened and that nobody did anything, but do you think maybe

**11:45am**  
maybe

**11:46am**  
nvermind

Kady set the phone down heavily on the table, feeling for a moment as though she might throw up again. 

Chaz. The guy Margo had killed had a name. He was Chaz, and some guy named Eliot knew about him but he and Margo had agreed never to say his name because of something he’d done.

Kady downed her cold coffee, then reached across the table and stole the dregs of Margo’s. It had never not felt real, but now, seeing the name, it had really hit her. This was a real guy, and yeah, he sounded like a dick, but this time yesterday he’d been alive and today he wasn’t.

When Margo returned from the bathroom and settled back into the booth, Kady was ready. She crossed her arms.

“You knew him. The guy you killed. Was he Brakebills?”

Margo raised an eyebrow. “Quick question, what exactly the fuck makes you think I’m opening to talking about this?”

Kady leaned back against the booth and shrugged. “I just can’t believe you genuinely knew a guy named Chaz well enough to be on murdering terms.”

“How did you—” Margo glanced down at the table, quickly putting it together. “Have you been going through my phone?”

“What the fuck is going on, Margo?”

“Listen,” Margo said, sliding the phone into her pink leather purse. “It’s very simple. You asked for _my_ help escaping someone who’s hurting you and your mom, and I delivered. Now we’re driving to Mexico together to see a man _I_ know who can help make sure we stay safe. The way I see it, you started off this chain of events and I’m the one holding it together. Also, you looked in my goddamn phone and I don’t like that. Now I’m going to have to take it in with me when I go to the bathroom and risk it getting covered in germs.”

“We wouldn’t even be here right now if you could have kept your battle magic to yourself.”

Margo raised an eyebrow. “For someone who’s all about escaping the people that hurt you, you don’t seem very sympathetic when a girl kills her rapist.”

The room seemed to stop. A silence stretched between them, more painful and violent than the words that had been exchanged. 

Kady’s fingers twitched, inadvertently casting Popper 3 directly at her mug.

It fell from the table, hit the ground, and broke in two.


End file.
